


The Morning After

by Salustra



Series: Cuddleverse [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time Bottoming, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 12:24:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1347361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salustra/pseuds/Salustra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CONTENT:  first time bottoming. <br/>SUMMARY: Sherlock and John talk about things the day after the Bachelor Party. <br/>SPOILERS: None really<br/>DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun.  No money made, don’t sue us!  (or, in more formal language-  <br/><b>Copyright Disclaimer</b> I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found <a href="http://www.copyright.gov/fls/fl102.html"><b>HERE</b> </a><br/>    Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

It was time to get Sherlock to do something he did _not_ want to do, namely talk about what was going on between them. John had given Sherlock plenty of time to recover, he'd made him a nice fry-up and they'd eaten breakfast largely in silence. Now it was time. 

"So, Sherlock, about last night..." John began, realizing he sounded like some terrible cliche. 

"What about last night?" Sherlock said, promptly burying his face in the paper. 

"What about....? Sherlock, something monumental happened. At least it was monumental for me and I'm pretty sure it was a first for you." 

"Oh, _that_. What about it requires discussion?" 

"Yes, _that_. What did it mean, is it likely to happen again, are we in a relationship now or just friends who shag....these are just the first three questions that happen to mind." 

"Then in order, I don't know what you're talking about, yes most likely, and I think we're in a relationship of sorts. Is that sufficient discussion for you?" 

"No. You have to ...relationship, really?" 

"Yes. I deduced prior to last night that we'd been in one for quite a while. I don't have relationships, you understand, so it took me a while to recognize our arrangement as such." Sherlock turned the page of the newspaper as he spoke. "It's rather unsettling of course and you present quite the distraction from clear thinking, but I think last night rather definitively proved to me I can't ignore it any longer." 

"Well it's nice to know I'm a distraction at least," John said, the sarcasm evident in his tone. 

"Considerably more than that. Are you sure we haven't had sufficient discussion on the topic yet?" 

" _Quite_ sure. So are we a couple now?" 

"Well, I do think it's time we bow to the conclusions of practically everyone we've met together even casually and say yes, we are a couple now. I do hope it won't change our working relationship, though, as I treasure and value your role in our cases." 

John sat silent for a long time, thinking. "It won't," he answered at last. "I just have one last question, then I think we can stop discussing this, for now. Do you always have to be the one on top, so to speak? I've always rather fancied, well..." He cleared his throat. 

"Ah, that. Well no, I don't have to be in control at all times, much as it pains me to contemplate giving up control. I had rather considered that we might...alternate. In a manner of speaking." 

John took in a deep breath and sighed. "I can live with that. So, I'm off to do the shopping. Need anything?" 

"I need those little Ziploc bags, the pint size, perhaps a hundred or so. I have some specimen gathering to do." 

"Will do." John went out and headed towards the market. He was whistling as he walked. His own version of humming, he supposed. 

~~~~ 

That night as he got ready for bed, John found himself embarrassingly already aroused. He pulled out the pajama top to try and cover his state getting into bed. Only to be confronted by a nude Sherlock on the bed, arms behind his head, also rampantly erect. 

John blinked. "Ah, well, so..." 

"Yes," said Sherlock. "Apparently last night rather awakened my awareness of you and of carnal desire in general. So, am I satisfactory?" 

"Yes!" John blurted out. "You're like some erotic dream, as I'm sure you're aware, Mr. Cheekbones-and-Sexiness." 

Sherlock looked genuinely surprised. "I wasn't aware, but I'm thinking that is quite the compliment. May I see you as well without the haze of alcohol fogging my perceptions?" 

John nodded and started to take off the pajamas rather self-consciously. It was hard to be the center of attention like this, he wasn't used to it in any context. Sherlock's eyes caressed him as his skin came into view. Sherlock swallowed, hard. "You're perfect, just as I remembered." 

John couldn't take the intense gazes a moment longer. He moved onto the bed, his body over Sherlock's, and he kissed him passionately. Sherlock lifted a hand to caress John's cheek as he pressed back into the kiss. "You're a flatterer, Sherlock, who would have known?" His voice was hoarse. 

"I am not, John, and I never exaggerate purely for effect. You're perfect." Sherlock lifted up and pressed another kiss to John's lips. "I have never tried to picture anyone naked before, except as a mental exercise. Then you came along and you are all feelings and adoration and suddenly I'm thinking about things and feeling things I never had before. And so you must believe me when I tell you that you are perfect." 

John couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it, but he wasn't going to contradict the genius again. Everything else he'd said had just made him warm and gooey inside and he knew it was likely the closest Sherlock would ever get to really discussing his feelings. He parted Sherlock's legs and pushed up his knees a bit. "Can't wait," he said. "I don't trust myself to last all that long right now if I take things too slowly." He slicked up a few fingers with the Astroglide and started to push them inside Sherlock's virgin passage. 

Sherlock groaned as John's fingers entered him. If anything, the sensations were more intense on this side of things and he now understood intimately the noises John had made the night before. John, despite his protestations about the relative need for speed, took his time slowly twisting and thrusting the fingers inside Sherlock. He wanted him relaxed and ready for the next part. 

At length he felt he'd done about as much as he could and he applied a copious amount of Astroglide to himself. Sherlock looked up at him, gripping his own knees and spreading himself. He thought he might be able to face the feelings today that were too much the night before and it seemed as if John really wanted to see his face. 

John entered Sherlock, resting his weight on his arms as he slowly pushed in past the initial resistance. Sherlock coped with the mild pain of entry and was rewarded tenfold as John managed to brush his prostate. Sherlock knew intellectually about the prostate, but all the descriptions in porn novels could not prepare him for the actual sensation. He shouted out in passion and kissed John. John just moaned at the feeling of being inside Sherlock's tightness and he began to move in and out slowly. 

Sherlock panted and made all sorts of noises and gripped John's upper arms, loving the firm feel of muscle there. John was the shorter of the two but his broad build made him seem so much stronger and larger in ways than Sherlock. John gradually increased the pace and Sherlock started moving with the thrusts, as John had done for him the night before. He was completely losing any ability to think rationally and perhaps, he thought, that was part of the main attraction of this. He was completely given over to pleasure and to doing and being done to and there was no boredom and no intense awareness of his own emptiness. He gave up the last attempts to think and simply moved with John and let the pleasure fill him. 

For John's part, he was lost in the feeling of being inside Sherlock. Honestly, deep down, when he'd pictured them together this was how he'd pictured them. With John moving over and inside Sherlock, of plundering the sweet depths of his body. 

And then all too soon it came for both of them, climax and the ultimate shattering of them both in cosmic sensation. John settled next to Sherlock and Sherlock carefully shifted so he was against John. There were no words, words would have been inadequate. John rose and came back with warm wet cloths to clean them both, and then they curled into a spoon to sleep, John holding Sherlock against his body. 

They'd probably have more to discuss on the morning after.


End file.
